Starting Over Year One
by DeathOnThePaleHorse
Summary: The war ended baldy. No one won and everyone died. However, Harry is brought back and given a chance to save everyone. Sent back in time, Harry struggles to rectify what went wrong and change the terrible future in which the Wizarding World died.


A phoenix cry broke the silence that permeated the air. The bird swooped down low, flying over the mangled bodies littering the ground. It's head swerved back and forth as if it was looking for someone in particular. It soared up a hillside and suddenly veered towards one body in particular at the apex of the hill, landing on blood-matted hair of a boy.

Soon more phenoxies arrived. Their beating wings creating a cacophony of noise. Hundreds began landing around the body the first phoenix was on, carefully avoiding the other corpses that were scattered around.

Several minutes later, the birds parted, allowing a cloaked figure to approach. It looked down at the sight before him. Blood was everywhere. There were so many different gashes on the boy's body that any one of them could have been the one to end his life. The left leg was bent wrong, and part of the bone was popping through the skin. It was a pitiful sight.

"This will not do," the figure said.

In the next second, the body gasped for breath, jerking up into a sitting position. The phoenix that had been perched on his head squawked in annoyance and moved to settle itself on the ground among the other birds.

"Much better," the cloaked figure said.

The now alive person reacted quickly to the sound, pointing a wand at the them. He was still struggling to get his breath, but the wand was held surprisingly stead, and his eyes were alert and focused.

"Trying to threaten me with something that I create?" the cloaked figure huffed in what could be interpreted as annoyance.

The boy frowned, lowering the wand just a bit.

He looked around at all the birds that surrounded him, staring, then down at the wand in his hand. The pale wood remained disturbingly clean in comparison to the beaten and dirtied hand that held it.

"This is the elder wand, so if that is true, that would make you death, according to the storied."

"I am known by many names, but yes, I am the one you are thinking of."

The boy lowered his wand completely. He studied the being before him. The dark cloaked appeared to be thin, but it remained completely unaffected but the wind. The hood was pulled up, casting a unnaturally dark shadow, preventing a face from being seen.

"I am dead then, aren't I?"

"Not anymore, Harry Potter."

Harry involuntarily flinched at his name. He mulled about the implications of what he was told and tried to think back to what had happened. He remembered the battle, the fighting, the screams, witches and wizards falling down dead. No one survived. No one escaped. He even remembered succumbing to the darkness himself.

"I don't understand," Harry said. "And what is with all the phoenixes. If you're death.. Don't they kind of defy you?"

"How little you humans understand," the figure said. "I along with each one of them are a being that has been here since the beginning of time. We are the creators, the protectors. The phoenix is a form that we all of adopted and share. I share that form as well. You are actually familiar with my phoenix form."

"Fawkes?" Harry said in disbelief.

"Yes, that is another one of my names."

"I still don't understand what is going on."

"It is simple. We all failed. You failed. Both sides of the war failed. More importantly, we failed all of you. Magic is all but dead now. The war Tom Riddle created ended up killing everyone with magic, not just the ones he was trying to eliminate."

Harry glance over. Ten feet away from his lay the crumpled body of Voldemort. He too fell victim to the destruction he created. No one won.

"But what does that mean for me? Why did you bring me back?"

"You have all three hallows that I created. The wand in your hand, the stone in your pocket, and the cloak you have secured underneath your shirt, the possession of all three of these objects bonds us. Additionally, you were a leader in this war. You played a significant role. We have chosen you to have a chance to rectify this, if you choose to accept."

Harry cleaned his fists. "Wait! If you all are supposedly these all-powerful beings, why aren't you the ones fixing everything? Why didn't you stop this in the first place?"

"Yes, we are powerful, but we are old. A long time ago, we vowed to not interfere as much as we could. Humans and other species have a right to live and shape their world. However, things have gotten out of hand."

"So you're getting around the vow by having me do the interfering. I don't appreciate being a pawn to someone's game!" Harry yelled out bitterly.

The birds and the figure were unfazed.

"That is something we understand. The choice is your on whether you choose to act. We will not force you."

Harry snorted. "There is not really much of a choice is there. I either let everyone stay dead and the rest of the earth suffer, or I don't. That isn't a choice."

The figure remained silent.

Harry let out a sigh, his hand reaching up to ruffle his hair, but he stopped when he felt the sickness of his own partially dried blood.

"How would I even fix what happened and save everyone?" he asked.

"That is something you will understand should you accept our offer. Will you accept?"

Harry looked around him again. This time he didn't focus on the phoenixes but the bodies. The ground was covered as far as he could see. A dark chuckled rose up his throat. He was a soldier, and he never lost his damn hero complex. He really didn't have a choice.

"I accept."

With those words, he vanished from existence.


End file.
